Miracle Man
by shywr1ter
Summary: S1 ML: In response to Sam's Cape Haven Christmas story Challenge: As Max learns a little more about Christmas, she also learns more about the people in her life. Rated SM for some mooshiness.


_**DISCLAIMER: DA characters borrowed; no profits made from this. **_

_**SEASONS GREETINGS! What follows is a response to Sam's Cape Haven Christmas story Challenge. **The challenge: _

"_ max learns about santa from someone other than logan_

_ someone must get a puppy/kitten for a present_

_ normal must kiss a female character under the mistletoe_

_(preferably a canon character)_

_may be set whenever, and m/l kisses cannot be mistletoe-induced!_

_minimum 1500 words."_

_**Next disclaimer:** M/L shippiness ahead: what the heck, it's a holiday, and a challenge means what's NOT in the rules is fair game, right? (Any excuse for some M/L ship!) So for the purists, yes, there's some license taken with character and timing and such, and puts an S1 Christmas somewhere after Haven...but it's a Christmas trifle, so it has to be sweet! Merry Christmas and all happy holidays, everyone..._

**_Miracle Man_**

**Seattle Street Market. December 23rd **

"Yeah, well, all I'm saying is that Manticore _can't_ have been too holiday-friendly." Logan glanced up at the closed, stubborn expression on the pretty face, as he wheeled along at Max's side. The usually close walkways of the market were now all but impassible for anyone on wheels, with additional tables and booths, sellers standing and sitting and moving among them, bearing, along with the usual fare, red and green candies, daintily decorated cookies, brightly colored hand-knit mittens and scarves and cleverly crafted felt Christmas stockings... "...did they even tell you kids about Santa?"

"Sure" she tossed, clearly not wanting to discuss it. "We heard about it all. But all that sentimental stuff wasn't really that big a deal, you know? It's not like we could keep a train set in the barracks or wear jewelry on our fatigues."

Logan looked again to the shuttered expression, not pursuing it for the moment. They'd had this argument before, if not exactly in the same words or same topic. It was Logan's deeply held hope that Max could somehow find the parts of her life denied to her in her sterile, military upbringing and life on the run after. He'd glimpsed her compassion and tenderness, still held tightly, close inside of herself, and had made it an Eyes Only mission to find a way to help Max trust those emotions when they arose and to feel safe when she did so. With the conviction borne of his Psych 101 class years before, he was convinced that the nature/nurture argument was clearly demonstrated in Max: she just hadn't grown up in an environment that allowed that part of her develop and shine...and he would do all that he could to help it find its way out...

So he took another tack. "This is a _good_ idea, this party. You can see how Christmas plays out for that group of people you work with–you've got a real mix of backgrounds and cultures and traditions there–and it's nice, you know, that everyone has volunteered to bring something that represents their favorite traditions or memories..."

"You're so busted, Logan; you like the idea because it was _yours_." The green eyes darted up, caught, and she went on broadly, "you conned Original Cindy into having a party at our place by convincing her it would be a good thing, for _me_." She relented a tiny bit in the green gaze; as irritated as she was, she couldn't help but be touched by his efforts–but it didn't mean she wanted his interference. "Lots of kids grew up without Santa and sleigh bells and 'Ho Ho Ho,' and they're fine with it. What makes you so sure I'm not?"

Logan looked up at her stance, feet planted apart, hip cocked in attitude, fist on her hip and chin jutted at him, in challenge. He softened and shrugged, "because _this_ is you, at Christmas." His gaze lingered a bit longer as he tipped his head to the side, considering her. "It's a special time of year, Max" he said softly, voice still carrying over the holiday bustle. "A lot of us have really wonderful memories connected with this time of year. I just...hoped that you might be able to find some, too."

At that, her Scrooge-like heart melted just a little, for the scruffy, reckless, tender man who made it his mission not to let her get away easily with anything. She smiled, "Well, you come up with some extra-special treats for this party and you _could _make me a memory. _Then_ we'll talk."

"I'm on it" he grinned, happier than she'd seen him in a while. "First things first–I have to see if the sugar is being rationed, and what kind of chocolate I'll be able to get. Then--I just _might_ be able to pull off a Christmas miracle or two..." He pushed off toward the far corner, in search of the items he needed. Max slowed her pace a little, letting her eyes follow Logan as he patiently threaded his way through the hordes, even smiling up at shoppers, laughing, repeating "Merry Christmas" to perfect strangers...

It was something she'd noted over the years, without really thinking about it: the change that came over people at this time of year, either sappy or sentimental or maybe just more pleasant, more patient and cheerful. She'd not really stopped to consider any of it until, as was usual in such things, Logan prodded her to think about what she'd seen, to really chew it over and try to sort out why. Maybe there _was_ something to it; even Logan--Logan, whose family treated him worse than strangers could treat each other, who still bore the scars of losing his parents when he was young--he had succumbed as well. It hadn't escaped her notice that things that could usually send him into another round of morose brooding–ice and slush on his wheels and rims and through his gloves, bottlenecks in the market of people on foot, looming over him and threatening to teeter into his lap –were barely noted this trip, and didn't seem to threaten his spacy, sweet happiness at all. What the hell magic was it, anyway? It almost made Max long for the memories he wanted her to share...

**Max & Cindy's Crib. December 24th**

"No, girl, ain't you ever decorated for Christmas? _Dayum._.." Original Cindy tromped over to where Max stood with the small handful of leaves and white berries on a small, sorry branch, reaching to put it on the tree with the sparkling lights donated by Logan and all the crazy home-made decorations. "_This _is mistletoe..." She stood back, waiting for Max's reaction and when none came, she prodded, "You know–_mistletoe_?"

"...okay..." Max tried.

"Mistletoe, Max. Even when people 'ain't like that' they hook up under the mistletoe and..." Cindy stopped, the fact dawning that Max just might not have stumbled on this particular Christmas tradition, yet. Eyebrows up in disbelief, she tried, "Sugah, don't give me that look. Don't try to tell me that..."

"I know, I know, traditional Christmas mistletoe. Of course. So just tell me where you want it." Max walked over to her cup of hot chocolate, busying herself with a mouthful of the sweet stuff.

Cindy sighed, her mouth twisting up in a sad grin. "Up there..." She pointed to the ceiling above the entry, between their "kitchen" and the main room. "You hang that and any time a couple folks find themselves under the mistletoe...they kiss."

Max's face drew into a sour look. "No way. With this crowd?" She saw Cindy's disapproving reaction, and added "you really want to have that around while Sketchy's here?"

Cindy's face grimaced in concession, but she pointed Max back to the task. As Max climbed on a chair to hang the small greens, she explained, "It's an old tradition, Max. From back in the day when even a guy like Sketchy didn't come on to every hottie he saw, or have the nerve to just plant one on the woman he loved, ya know?" Her face took on a little of that soft holiday glow Max'd seen on damn near everyone the past few days. "This was a way to...you know...break the ice..." She suddenly fixed a look at her roommate. "Maybe you should find a way to negotiate Hot Boy under those little branches yourself tonight, boo."

"Cindy, we're not..."

"I don' even want to hear that old tired line from you again. Here" she tossed a dishtowel to Max and said "We got ninety minutes before everyone shows up here –I'm going for a bath _now_ and you can finish up the kitchen." She crossed the room toward the small bathroom but then stopped, looking back at the decorations and tableware and other stuff sent over by Logan, and smiled. "Look at this, Max. The place looks really pretty, like this..." She moved her gaze back to Max. "I don't care what you say. Logan is the best thing you could ever have in your life...maybe you'd better think of just how you can _get_ 'like that'..." And eyes lifting dramatically to the mistletoe once more, OC strode out of the room, leaving Max in the quiet of twinkling lights and the promise of a party to come...

**Same crib: an hour later**

Max had returned to her closet for the third time, trying to find _some_thing to wear that would pass Cindy's appraisal, when the phone rang. Grabbing it on the way back into the closet, she growled to the caller, "If it's not party-related, call back tomorrow..."

"Hey, Max--" the familiar voice on the phone line should have been there by now. Max groaned.

"Logan, I thought you were coming over early, to help..."

"Yeah, well, something's come up; I wanted..."

"Oh, no. You got me into all this 'special Christmas memory' mode and there's no way you're bailing now for some lame informant..."

"No, Max; wait..." He just couldn't muster the proper indignant tone at her allegation, seeing as how he had a track record of doing just that. He felt a rueful grin spread across his features, glad she wasn't there to catch it. "I just called to see if you minded if I...brought a date..."

"...a _date_?" she repeated, stunned. After what she and Cindy had just discussed, she didn't know whether to be angry or hurt or heartbroken or relieved...

"You've met her..." he was saying. "...Mrs. Moreno..."

...and still not having decided _what_ she should have felt at the threat of a rival, relief flooded her, followed immediately by the uncomfortable realization of just how intensely that "threat" had shaken her...

"Yeah, sure...but...I never figured you for the type who went after older women..."

She could just see the rolled eyes and exasperated smirk. "I just found out she's going to be alone at Christmas. Usually she spends Christmas with her son, but this year he's working out of the country and couldn't get back in time–and she couldn't make arrangements to get to other family..." he added in a mutter, to himself, "I wish she'd mentioned that, earlier; maybe I could have helped..."

"No, bring her, Logan, that's fine..." Max frowned a moment, "but she won't know most of them here ...and it may be kinda noisy and crazy, with this bunch. Are you sure she'd want...?"

"It will be fine. I'd put money on the fact that she'd rather be with people having fun, even if they're new to her, than being alone on Christmas. You'll see..." He paused, "Oh, and Bling will be stopping by with Sandra, maybe just for a short visit, but he's dropping something off..."

"Cool." She wavered, almost ready to add another thought, but finding no words yet, she offered, "It looks like a real Christmas party here, Logan. The lights on the tree are beautiful."

"Good." He too was quiet for a moment, then said, "Well, I'd better go convince Mrs. Moreno we want her to join us, and give her a few minutes to get ready. We'll be over when we can."

"Okay–tell her I want to see her here, too."

"Thanks, I will, Max...see ya..."

"Late..." Max hung up, thinking over the call. Logan's concern about Mrs. Moreno–and the moments she thought he might be bringing a real, genuine _date_–still pulled at her in an odd way, leaving her wanting to see Logan _now_, see those eyes and listen to his voice...not for anything special, just to have him there...

She shook it off. Not even Christmas yet, the party hadn't started. _Get a grip, Max_, she chided. _You'll start believing a fat little man in a red suit has reindeer that fly..._

**Fogle Towers. Fifty minutes later.**

When Logan came back upstairs to pick up Mrs. Moreno, she had insisted in bringing along the box of homemade candies she had just finished packing up to send to her son, the recipe one handed down from her great-grandmother in Italy and lovingly made as a family tradition each year, even when the Pulse made ingredients hard to find. "I have enough for at least three more batches. I can make more in the morning and he'll never be the wiser" she winked at Logan, color in the old cheeks still blooming since Logan had shown up at her door, insisting that she come along to Max's party with him. "The way the mail is delayed, they won't reach him until February, as it is." She paused and self-consciously offered, "Would you like to try one...?"

"I was hoping you'd ask" he grinned, determined to find it delicious even if it tasted like soap. Gamely, he took a bite...and his eyes lit up, looking at her in wonder.

"You like it?"

"Ohhh..." He moaned, no acting needed at all, "this is _so_ good..." He took another bite of the rich confection and shook his head, "you've been holding out on me. You never told me you were a genius..."

She laughed happily, a very girlish sound of delight, and pulled out her coat. Smiling hopefully to Logan, she asked. "Are you certain I won't be a bother?"

"Very certain." He opened the door for her. "...do...you want me to carry the tin, for you?"

"Oh, I can get it..." She waited as he pulled the door shut behind them. "My son used to volunteer to carry them when we'd go visiting, too. I learned that lesson in a hurry" she beamed, memories of her son warming her face, "the first time we showed up for dinner with an empty tin and one very wound-up little boy."

"You caught me" Logan grinned. "'s okay. I'll just have to wait til we get there." He pushed off down the hall. "And because it's Christmas...I might even be convinced to share..."

**Max & Cindy's Crib. Party time plus fifty five minutes**

By the time Logan and Mrs. Moreno showed up, the party was in full swing, the small apartment filled with revelers eating and laughing and drinking and making all sorts of merry...bodies and hair were decked out in Christmas finery, in varying levels of sincerity to flat out outlandish humor, as with Sketchy's sweater pinned with some odd weeds and branches he insisted were mistletoe, and Normal's red shirt, gym sock of a beard, and a red stocking cap making him the designated Santa for the evening. Max's cronies had outdone themselves, Logan marveled. He glanced up to Mrs. Moreno, who seemed genuinely pleased to be walking into their crazy world. Amazing what the holidays can do...

Near the door, Original Cindy saw the unlikely couple entering and went over to greet them. "Mrs. Moreno, I'm Cindy–we're just so pleased that you could join us" she said warmly. "May I take your coat? Hey, Logan," she grinned, turning to him briefly from the elderly woman with him.

Logan sat back to watch a side of Cindy he'd never seen before–clearly warned by Max that Mrs. Moreno would be coming, Cindy's usual street wise sarcasm was replaced by a genuine greeting of warm welcome for the lonely widow. Both women left Logan sitting untended in the doorway as they moved off to find a place to put Mrs. Moreno's treats, interrupted by Normal as he turned with a huge grin to see the expected guest, grabbed her shoulders happily and, pointing above them to the little clutch of mistletoe, gave her a big socky smooch on the lips. Logan laughed in surprise–he had never seen his neighbor quite so happy. Christmas magic, he mused...

"Hey, you made it..." A familiar voice came up beside him.

"Hey, Max...wow..." He managed, looking up to see her stunning form in a pair of snug black pants and an eye-popping red sweater that followed her exquisite curves... He swallowed, and stammered, "You look...perfect..."

Was that a blush he saw? "Original Cindy said I was allowed to wear red, or red and green, or red and white." She passed it off as if it hadn't been her idea to look this good. "It was easier just to cave and do the Christmas thing than to try and argue..."

"Good for Cindy" he managed, then added, "It looks like a successful party so far. You having fun?"

"Sure. Food's good" she twinkled. He'd provided the main dishes, but others brought along some of their own favorites, and the table had filled with a wonder of food and drink. "You hungry?"

"I'll get something in a bit..." He smiled, and his eyes brightened even further to see that his therapist, there with his current companion, had actually arrived before he had. "Hey, Bling–Sandra, good to see you."

"Merry Christmas, Logan" the petite teacher smiled. "Great party"

"Looks like it." Logan grinned back, then looked to Bling. "So, were you able to..."

"All set. Package is in the other room; we'll bring it out when Normal starts handing out gifts"

"Normal?" Logan looked back toward the usually sour manager, seemingly having the time of his life.

"I'm told that's a Santa suit he's wearing" Bling said, skeptically. "I think he's wanting to start soon so he can take of the "beard."

"I don't blame him," Logan laughed, and turned back to the hostess. "Max, you and Cindy have done a great job here. Look how much fun everyone is having..."

"Is that the test?" She asked, teasing.

"Damn straight" His answer was quick. "Did you see many people having this much fun at Bennet's wedding reception?"

She laughed, "Well, they who were dishing about everyone in the place..."

"I'll bet they didn't look like they were having actual _fun_." He looked around. "_This_ is honest and real, Max–and makes good memories" His eyes twinkled as he glanced up at Bling then back to Max, knowingly. "Think I'll go check out the food..."

And Max watched Logan, with Bling and Sandra trailing behind, as he greeted and chatted and introduced Max's friends to the couple with him. She drew a deep breath to consider what he'd just said. The whole crowd from Jam Pony had made it, and seemed to be having as much fun as Logan thought. It was like kickin' back at Crash, but sweeter, somehow; many had dressed a little more festively, the girls in make-up and sparkles in their hair, the boys in clean shirts and scrubbed faces...well. That in itself was memorable, she mused.

"Ho ho ho, people, it's time" Normal announced, calling over the crowd. "Santa's on a schedule, here..." He clapped his hands. "We have a fair number of packages, needing delivery...lucky for you, they're all local. Front and center, Herbal..."

Max wandered over to where Mrs. Moreno sat with a small plate of food and stopped to say hello. As they spoke, she noticed Bling come in to lean over the table and place a box carefully alongside the others, making subtle eye contact with Logan. Both men then kept an eye on it amid the hubbub. Shaking away their intrigues, Max turned back to smile up at Mrs. Moreno from a seat on the floor beside her, listening to the laughter and debate over couple gifts, some calls for Normal to hurry, and speculation for what was in the next packages...

"You'd think the holiday was Santa's birthday or something..." Max mused to her guest. "It all turns into 'what's in it for me,' doesn't it? Nobody talks much about the real reason for Christmas anymore." She sighed. "Maybe it would be better to take Santa out of it all."

Mrs. Moreno smiled, "Sometimes, that sentiment takes over...but Santa is so important, especially for children, to give them hope. Maybe even more important in times like these, when life can be so hard. What can be more hopeful than to think there's someone out there, who wants nothing more than to make you happy, to give you not just toys or clothes, but give you the gift of caring? Think of it, Max, children all over the world are told that this man spends his entire year making toys to deliver on one, special night, to children he doesn't know, just because they exist, and that it doesn't matter who they are. Even if they're not the smartest or fastest or best at math, he wants _them_ to be happy, too. In these days when children don't always know if their parents will be coming home at the end of the day...if there will be food on the table....or if they will ever be safe from all these fears--isn't wonderful for them to know that someone is looking out for them, worried about them, and using all his time and efforts and skills, just to make them happy?"

Max nodded, afraid to speak, as her eyes, big as saucers, quickly rose to Logan, involuntarily. Mrs. Moreno may as well been describing the man sitting across the room, watching the party unfold. Swallowing the emotions she felt, clearing her throat of the thickness that invaded it for a brief moment, she looked back to the elderly woman, smiling at her in some level of understanding.

"Because we're all human, Max, people have misappropriated Santa and have made it all about getting things, not giving." Mrs. Moreno said sagely. "That's not Santa's fault..." And as if on cue, she was interrupted by the sound of "Santa's" voice calling –for her...

"Mrs. Moreno..."

The elderly woman's face held confusion as she saw Normal leaning over the table and reading her name from a gift's card. "Oh– it can't be," she protested, "...you couldn't know I was coming..."

"Santa knows all, Mrs. Moreno" Normal intoned, lifting the box Bling had surreptitiously added to the pile, and swept it over to the waiting woman. "Merry Christmas...be careful, now...that one's fragile..."

Max heard odd little sounds coming from the box, and, in some worry, looked over to Logan, who was making his way closer, watching –and saw his expression holding anticipation and hope, eyes glued to the elderly woman's face... and at the little cry of wonder Max heard, she looked back to see the woman carefully lifting a tiny grey and white kitten to her shoulder...

"Oh, how sweet..." The woman's eyes spilled in tears of joy as she cradled the soft, warm form to her, the little one fully content to nestle in her chin, freed now from the dark lonely box. "But how..." she looked up to Normal only for a moment, then looked over to Logan to smile her gratitude. "Logan, how can I ever thank you...?"

"Just have a Merry Christmas, Mrs. Moreno" he smiled, satisfied. He watched the pair cuddling happily for another moment before raising his eyes to Max, to see her response. But instead of watching the two, she was watching him, eyes misty, chewing her lip. Caught, she blinked quickly a few times and smiled widely for him. In question, he looked another moment and mouthed to her, "You okay?"

"Of course," she grinned, and turned abruptly to bounce away into the crowd near the food.

With a sigh, eyes following her as long as he could, Logan then turned back to the kitten, his last-minute "date"...and the room full of Max's friends. "Patience in all things, " Bling counseled in his thoughts yet again. Max would be okay, he nudged himself. As would Mrs. Moreno, he decided, watching as the kitten, now curling into her lap, enjoyed the attentions of several of the revelers, clearly happy amid the chaos. As would they all...but Logan's eyes drifted back to the kitchen, where he saw Max talking... laughing ...and stealing a glance back his way...

Max stood with Cindy and Herbal and Sketchy, hearing without hearing their stories of Christmas past, of family and friends, and, from Sketchy, the girls he'd wooed for Christmas...Amid the familiar banter and teasing of this trio, she was thinking of how happy Mrs. Moreno looked, both at being included in this haphazard crew of messengers, and at receiving a small ball of fluff that would help temper the loneliness, all arranged at the last minute by the man who had arranged this party, organized them into this mix as he organized informants and couriers and personal cat burglars to fix the world, a small bit at a time, as he helped her keep up her own search for the "family" she'd lost...

And suddenly, in a moment of realization, Max stopped in her tracks, listening, watching...This crazy mix of people from her job–OC, Sketchy, Normal, Herbal–_they_ had become her surrogate family, her siblings, as well. At that very moment they sang and laughed and held on to each other, sharing memories as diverse as they themselves were, but all of a kind--of hope and love and community and sharing... In all this time that she had been looking for her siblings, she had _found_ them...just not the ones she'd thought she sought. _So this was Christmas_: laughter and fun and full tummies with those you love, who drive you crazy with their schemes or their haplessness or their dreams, but who were there to support you in your own craziness... a time to remember each other and to remember to love each other...

Max turned again, searching for the rest of the answer...and saw, across the room, Logan sitting apart, quiet in the laughter and tinsel, a broad, warm smile of contented happiness on his face as he watched the festivities and joy he had engineered... for her... and as the final puzzle piece fit into place, her Grinch's heart grew six times its size...

Logan would remember, always, the moment he glanced away from the room full of revelers to see the beautiful chimera coming his way where he sat apart, and how, without sarcasm or preamble or apology, she raised a hand to seek his. As his hand closed gently over hers, she smiled to whisper, "Logan Cale, weaver of miracles..." She looked into the green eyes, riveted on hers, as Logan sat frozen in her spell, afraid to breathe, daring to hope that what he saw _was_ what he saw.... "Merry Christmas, Logan..." she breathed, as she leaned close to kiss him tenderly, sweetly, her full lips caressing his...

After long moments, when she finally pulled away, leaving him dazzled and dumbfounded and happier than he'd even been in his life, she said softly, just for him, "You did it, Logan. You've given me Christmas memories that, no matter what, no matter what else happens in this insanity of a life and a world, no one can say aren't real, and aren't mine." Her eyes swam with tears that she would not let fall, and she knelt at his side, leaning into his hand as he raised his palm, dazed, to her cheek.

"You're _my_ Christmas miracle, Max" he whispered.

"Merry Christmas, Logan" she repeated, then wavered, before her tears finally fell. At that, with a small laugh, she finally dared to admit, "I love you..." She saw his eyes widen in stunned joy and laughed, diffusing the emotion, "Think Santa could fit you under my tree?"

"C'mere" he lifted her hand to guide her into his lap, oblivious to everyone else in the room. "If he won't, I will, myself..." He murmured as he drew her close, his voice belying the emotions overtaking him. "Wherever you want me, Max..."

"This is good" she purred, lips again finding his as his arms went around her and held her sweetly. It was several minutes later when they became aware of laughter and attention and their names being passed around the crowd...

"Damn, what did you do, Max, _swallow_ the mistletoe?" Sketchy leered their way, yelping immediately after as Original Cindy cuffed him in the head from behind.

"Who needs mistletoe?" Max murmured, eyes locked into Logan's, shining with a new light, voice thickening with emotion as she contemplated her own personal superhero-on-wheels. "I got my Christmas miracle" she smiled, just for him, "and even I know that trumps mistletoe every time."

_**Merry Christmas, peeps...**_


End file.
